Scars Left by Time
by LunarBlade Valentine
Summary: Legolas, the silent support. Sam, the brave gardener. When Sam needs to find his strength, he finds an unexpected friend in the elf. NonSlash! A look into our favorite Elf's psyche. RePosted with corrections!


_Title_: **Scars Left by Time**

_Author_: LunarBlade Z. Valentine.

_Rating_: PG

_Summery_: Legolas, the silent support. Sam, the brave gardener. When Sam needs to find his strength, he finds an unexpected friend in the Elf. Non-Slash!  
_Time Frame_: Fellowship of the Ring. Though this is slightly 'out-of-time', it supposedly takes place after they sail from Lothlorien but before the Company disbands.

_Spoilers_: Well, maybe a little regarding the end of FotR.

_Category_: Hurt/Comfort. Some angst and some action. Mostly Angst. ^_^

_Disclaimer_: Yada-yada- I'm a _fan_fic writer. I take the existing characters and weave new stories with them. I do it for my soul, not my pocket.

_Feedback_: Is there ever anyone who _doesn't_ want to get feedback? Send e-mails en-mass! (Please read the story first, though. ^_^)

_Notes_: Re-posted! I got the hint! I spelled a lot of names wrong, so here I am, fixing it. Please understand that most of the versions that I've seen of the book were not in English, and therefore I could not know the correct spelling of each name. Note to people who write LotR fanfiction: If and when you find that you have accidentally spelled the word 'elf' without a Capital E, do not 'Auto Replace'. You'll end up with things like Yourself and HimsElf. Argh!

This fic was written for the soul purpose of redeeming Legolas' image. Most fics that I found portray him as a weak, sometimes even wussy guy. The facts of the matter are that he's strong willed as Aragorn, and not some fairy-sensitive-frightened-whimpering young boy.

Ok, it's been a while since I read the first book, and I don't clearly remember some parts. Please forgive inconsistencies. Most of what I remember, obviously, is from the movie.

The title is from a Chrono Cross music with the same title.

My 'Old English' here is a mix of Shakespearean (Or rather from Ultima 7 ^_^;), the book itself and Vagrant Story's weird Ole English.

Aragorn's Tale is a revision of a take Marilyn tells Ed in a Northern Exposure episode of old. I loved that story, though I changed it slightly here to fit my needs. I also found out, with the kind help of Kirsten, that it is, in fact, a Chinese tail of old.

_Thanks: _SnoDragon, szhismine, White Wolf, Legola Lu, devilburns, mystical elf, The Pixielady, Pellawethiel and Senni, for pointing out, collectively, all the wrongs I have done to Tolkien in this one piece. ^_^

Scars Left by Time 

"Ah, I'm exhausted!" Merry plopped on his behind, rubbing his sore feet, "How are you, Pippin?"

"I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse!"

"You're always hungry!"

"Am not!"

The argument continued, but it was a pleasant backdrop as the company made camp. There were many trees, and plenty of wood to built a fine fire. Gimli was trying to persuade the already persuaded Sam that he was not, as it appeared, resting. But rather, sitting in a traditional Dwarvish position that is ready for everything. His panting, he explained, was just so the Hobbits won't feel that they are only ones that have it hard. 

The shy Frodo was talking to the reclusive Aragorn, and the two of them seemed to be deep in conversation.

Watching all of them was Legolas. He shook his head, a content smile on his lips, and returned to his observations. They were by the edge of the trees, and the setting sun was coloring the sky in bright yellow, orange and pink, but at the same time darkened the land like murky ink.

"I doubt we've been followed, Elf. You can stop thy lookout." Boromir came and looked around by Legolas' side.

"I sensed something evil in these woods. I am not certain we have lost our pursuers."

"'Sensed'? Have the elves developed more senses since I've last heard?"

Legolas frowned slightly, giving the Man a reproaching look,

"Not as such, but Elven senses _are_ keener than those of Menfolk. It is my reasonability to try and warn you when I sense something, is it not?"

Boromir muttered something and went to arrange his equipment. Legolas remained and tried to get the sense of the forest. He tried to listen to the trees themselves, as he liked to do in Mirkwood, but the trees here spoke differently. From what little Legolas could understand of their foreign speech, the trees spoke of an evil lurking about.

Strain as he might, Legolas could understand no more.

"Legolas!" Aragorn now came by his side, "Any signs?"

The fair Elf narrowed his eyes at the dim settings around them.

"Few of any kind, and none that should yet alarm us." He looked at Aragorn, "Still, be wary. I sense something foul, though I cannot tell if 'tis coming our way."

Aragorn nodded and returned with Legolas to the camp.

"Take care of the Hobbits for a while, Legolas." The Man said, picking up his short bow. Boromir shouldered his shield. "We go hunting, and will return with dinner shortly." He mock-bowed to all six remaining companions and disappeared after Boromir into the darkening forest. In less than a few heartbeats, the two were out of sight and silence fell among the group.

Legolas turned to see that all four Hobbits and Gimli were staring at him. He stared back.

"Hmph!" Gimli was the first to huff, "Leave the leadership to an Elf, and who knows what trouble might come!" Gimli turned around, deliberately giving the Elf a full view of his back. Legolas rolled his eyes, and the Hobbits chuckled.

Legolas fed the fire. His blue eyes reflected it, and he stared deep into the burning tinder. He was seated on a log, while Merry and Pippin were practicing their swordsmanship and Frodo watched them and laughed at their mistakes. It was good to see him cheerful, Legolas mused; the Hobbit carried such a heavy burden... It weighted on his soul, and all members of the Company noted it. 

Gimli was humming some Dwarvish tune and sharpening his trusty axe.

The sun was quick to settle, and already the fire was the only light source visible. A crescent moon began to peek over a faraway hill.

"What is it, Samwise?" Legolas gave up, lifting his gaze to meet that of the Hobbit's. Sam was seated to Legolas' left, and for the last couple of minutes was staring at the Elf. He flustered, blushed and stuttered,

"N… Nothing, Mister Legolas."

At a perfectly raised Elvish brow, Sam added,

"Just wondering."

"On what does you mind dwell? There is something bothering you?"

Sam and Legolas never really got to talk, in all their days of travel. If Legolas weren't scouting ahead, then Sam would be with Frodo. Sometimes Legolas would be in the back while the Hobbits were in front, and sometimes it was the other way around.

"Not _bothering_, Mister Legolas, sir." Sam now looked at the fire, "Just wonderin'." Legolas waited for him to continue, and it would seem that he gathered his courage before asking, "About the Elf-folk."

Legolas showed mild surprise,

"About the elves? But you spent a long time at Rivendell. Have you not learned about our ways there?"

Sam nodded, and looked back at Legolas, "That I did, Mister Legolas, sir- but I was mighty curious about the Markwood elves as well."

The Elf's expression softened,

"It's Mirkwood."

"That." Sam cowered into his shoulders, embarrassed, "I was curious about your folk and…" Something was obviously bothering him.

"…And…?" Legolas picked another small log for the fire.

"…If you don't mind me saying so myself, Mister Legolas… I was curious about that scar on your left thigh."

The log from Legolas' hand fell with a thump to the ground, and it was the first time Samwise could say that the Elf was truly surprised about anything. He quickly added, "No offense meant, Legolas, sir! I just happened to see it when you were catching them fish yesterday… It looked like it was a mighty nasty wound…" He cowered deeper into his shoulders and watched Legolas shake his head and give Samwise a curious look.

"Why do you ask of it? It is a story of many years ago." Legolas didn't seem to mind the question. It was just that he never expected it. He was so certain that no one paid it heed.

"We're friends, isn't it so, Mister Legolas, sir?" There was a sort of childish hope in the Hobbit's voice that made Legolas smile. It was rare to see the Elf smile, and Samwise couldn't help but smile as well when he saw it. "Besides," Sam nodded, probing the fire, "I do dearly love stories about elves!"

"I do believe you like everything about my kin." Legolas readjusted his arms and legs. His tone carried some humor in it. He now leaned his elbows on his knees. "Though 'tis a mystery to me why. I will tell you the tale…" He looked at the fire, now growing serious again, "'tis not a very interesting one, and I admit to be a poor storyteller."

"Elven modesty?" Gimli joined the two, sitting down with many a 'clink' and a 'clunk' of his armor. "That's a novelty!" He huffed a few more times while both Hobbit and Elf were staring at him oddly.

"Come now, mister Elf!" Gimli scoffed at last, "Tell your tale and be done with it!"

Legolas wondered whether the Dwarf was bored or genuinely interested. It didn't matter to him that much either way. Legolas' and Gimli's relationship was based on mutual insult, and sometimes even mutual rivalry of skills. It was the sort of hate\hate relationship that worked well while others were around, but would bring them to be at each other's throats if they were to remain alone.

"It happened many, many years ago." His calm gaze passed between his two shorter companions, then he just stared at the fire, "Many years before either of you were born, I'd wager."

Gimli scoffed, closing his eyes and pretending to be tall and noble, Legolas supposed, while Sam just straitened on his log and listened carefully.

"It happened when I was much younger, and much more eager to prove myself to my brothers."

"How many brothers do you have?" Samwise asked, fascinated even before the story fully begun.

"There are seven brothers, beside me."

"So many elves!" Gimli mourned. Ignoring him, Legolas continued,

"A Warg had managed, at that time, to enter Mirkwood and caused much grief and damage to the cattle and those who took care of it."

"A Warg?" Sam's eyes were wide and worried, "What's that?"

"A vicious monster!" Gimli scared him with his booming voice, "As big as a horse! With vicious teeth that can tare a young Hobbit to shreds in a blink!"

"Did you kill it?" Sam turned to Legolas, worried that such creatures existed.

"Do you want to hear the story, or would you rather I just tell you it's end?"

"Sorry."

Legolas took a deep breath.

"My father sent my brothers after it with the hunters, hoping that one of them might kill it and bring its head. I wanted to go, but he forbade it."

"Why?" Sam asked, moving aside and letting Frodo sit by him. Merry and Pippin joined as well.

"I was young, barely out of childhood, and my aim with the bow was _not_ the best in Mirkwood."

"There was such a time?" Merry laughed, amused with the notion. He and Pippin sat apposed to Legolas across the fire. Legolas nodded.

"Like you and your friends, even elves need to practice to be good. As I was saying: since I was unable to hit a mark no farther than a fathom away, I was ordered to stay. After some brash, selfish and thoughtless words on my account, I was restricted to my room 'till the beast was slain."

"'Thoughtless words'?" Frodo tilted his head in inquiry. "From you?"

Here Legolas chuckled to himself (a rare sight indeed), "You would be surprised what an arrogant young Elf can say when he's angry. I, alas, was no exception."

"I can't imagine you saying things out of anger, Mister Legolas!" Sam cried in shock.

"My soul is flawed, as is everybody's. Think not of me as anything exceptional."

"_'Everybody's'_! Hmph!" Gimli scoffed yet again, "Speak for yourself!"

The Hobbits laughed, and the Dwarf wasn't sure if to be insulted or not.

"I spoke out of anger and the selfish urge to prove my worth. The type of pride that the young boast, while the elders mourn. I was confined to my room by order of my father, indeed, but as even as I speak these words, I can still feel how my blood boiled." He clenched his fist, looking at it and seeing the past, "I disregarded my father's request and escaped, certain that if I were to join my brothers and help slay the beast, I shall be acknowledged as an adult."

"Even now, you appear but a youngling. The only ones who don't have beards are babies!" Gimli cried. He received a cold glare from nearly everyone by the fire, so he refrained his future comments. None of the hobbits had beards and they certainly did not see themselves as babies.

"So you escaped?" Pippin asked and received a nudge in the ribs from Merry, "He just said he had." He whispered angrily, "Don't interrupt the story!"

Legolas found it odd that everyone was listening so intently. He never told stories before. He enjoyed it, though, and continued.

"So there I was, running towards where I had thought my brothers were, and where I thought I might not be detected. I remember feeling very brave. Ah, but a foolish young Elf, I was!"

"Now only the 'young' is gone." Gimli mumbled. They all ignored.

"My feet carried me towards the edge of the castle's walls, and I found myself near the granary. I was about to set towards the deeper forest when I had heard a scream. I turned at a crossroad and there it was…"

"The Warg?" Pippin asked, excited.

"No other than." Legolas nodded, "It had cornered two young elves, and was certainly about to kill them. They shivered with fear, and shouted for help when they saw me."

The young Hobbits were entrance, sitting on the edges of their logs and waiting for every word, spoken in that soft, calm voice. The rolling accent added to the enchantment, and they could almost see the sights he was describing.

"I drew my bow," He said, mimicking, empty-handed, the motions of then. He held his left hand forward, as if holding the bow, pressed his cheek to the arm. His right hand drew an invisible arrow from his quiver. He pointed straight ahead. So real his story had become, that Merry and Pippin, seating across from him, felt as though he was about to shoot them. His eyes reflected the fire with such ferocity; the story was painted with the strength of his words.

"…I fired!" He released the invisible arrow, and Pippin actually ducked his head by instinct.

"Did you kill it?" He asked, straightening, only to get nudged again. "Let him tell it!" Merry scolded. Even Gimli had his eyes open and was looking at the Elf by now.

Legolas shook his head.

"I was lucky I did not hit the couple, for my aim was skewed and my arms too weak for the distance I intended. It did draw the beast's attention towards me, though." He paused, then continued, "The Warg charged me, finding me either more of a threat or a treat than the two others. 

When our gazes met, I was paralyzed with fear. I had never seen anything so big and ferocious. Certainly I had never _fought_ such a beast!"

The Hobbits held their breaths, and Gimli was dropping all pretenses of disinterest.

"The sun was high in the sky. All around me there was nothing but a few buildings of grain and wheat. The light that filtered through the Mirkwood canopy glistened over the monster's oily fur as it raced towards me, fangs bared." Another pause, a deep breathe. His audience was captivated, but he didn't seem to notice. He was staring into the fire, and saw the fire in that Warg's eyes.

"What happened then?" Gimli asked in a hushed tone, as if afraid to break the spell the Elf weaved with his calm words.

"Somewhere between the beast's jump on me and my falling, I managed to take my short swords out. 

The fight was brief; with one sword I held its teeth from closing over my neck, with the other I worked to reach its heart. Soon the beast fell, but I was not unscathed." Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "I had received my punishment: The scar on my thigh, which Samwise had noticed, and a scratch mark over my heart." He placed a delicate fist over his chest, eyes still closed. Strange how the same fist could look harmless now, when in battle it is a weapon as fearsome as his swords. "When an Elf bares a scar, he carries it to the rest of his days." He opened his eyes and looked from person to person before him. His gaze lingered on Samwise. "And there are certainly many days in the life of an Elf. 'Tis rather shameful to carry a scar, in our lands."

The hobbits and Gimli exhaled, feeling a great surge of sadness, for now the Elf's words were marred with the shame he felt that day.

"When I was returned, bleeding, to my father's home I received a scolding the sort I will never forget." He raised his fist in the air, "Rantra Mennor farul, metto egazan ka!" He exclaimed, starling his audience. He then translated with a lopsided grin, "'I have a fool for a son, and he has a log for a brain!' I was neither commended nor seriously abolished for that incident later." He explained, growing serious again, "I have received my punishment for my arrogance and vanity."

There was a long silence, as they considered the story. Finally, after some long moments, Legolas spoke again,

"Alas, I fear I am not a fine story teller like Gandalf was." His tone was sorrowful.

"Nay, you can weave a story like you wield the bow, nowadays!" Pippin laughed.

Samwise noticed something,

"You said… 'Castle'."

The Elf's expression froze for just a split second. He then blinked and seemed rather embarrassed,

"That I did."

"You lived in a castle?" Samwise's eyes gleamed with curiosity and excitement. He was still thrilled by the story. Legolas nodded, but volunteered no information.

"Were you a guard?" Merry asked.

"No, I was not a guard."

Gimli eyed him carefully as he tried to find a way out of this predicament.

"A servant then?" Merry was thoughtful.

"No, not a servant, either, I'm afraid."

 "Maybe a chef?" Pippin asked with his regular enthusiasm. He received a glare from all three Hobbits. "A chef?" Merry was appalled, "Have you forgotten already what had happened when he tried to cook?" All four Hobbits shuddered.

"Not a servant, nor a cook. Not a guard and certainly not a crook." Gimli leaned dangerously towards the Elf, who leaned back in response. "I believe," the Dwarf said in a steady tone, still eyeing the Elf with suspicion, "that out Elf-friend is trying to hide something!"

Legolas' expression was verging on distressed, though reading any expression from him required some close understanding of his soul,

"Ah, the famed cunning of a _dwarf_." He retorted, though not with much enthusiasm. He just wanted the subject dropped, "Did you think of it yourself, or did one of the Hobbits help you?"

"Wait…" Frodo spoke, looking at the fire and doing some mental calculations, "Seven brothers… The castle… You-" He met Legolas' eyes, "You're the king's son? Bilbo told me of Thranduil, the Mirkwood king who had eight children!"

Legolas sighed, looking at his lap. He nodded.

Everyone drew back.

"A prince!" Samwise exclaimed in awe.

"Please, let it rest." Legolas looked from companion to companion, judging their reactions. "'Tis of no real consequence."

"This is indeed a royal gang we have here now!" Gimli seemed pleased with the Elf's obvious discomfort, "A king of men, a steward's son and a prince of elves!"

"'Tis just a formality- let it be." Legolas snapped at Gimli, who seemed unfazed and rather pleased with himself. "'Tis of no consequence." The Elf repeated desperately.

"But it is!" Merry said, "We've been traveling together all these months and we never knew!"

"Because it does not matter." Legolas was almost pleading, though it eluded most of the company before him.

"You're nobleborn." Sam's voice was hushed with respect. 

Here Legolas actually frowned.

All five people in front of him immediately grew silent. It was rare to see such a scowl on the otherwise chiseled-to-perfection face.

"Me being a prince of Mirkwood is a technicality." His tone was serious, harsher than the usual calm tone. "I am the eighth son, a king- I shall never be." It wasn't said with anger, but relief. His frown was still set when he passed his gaze from person to person again, "I could not have helped but be born where and when I was born. There is no great honor nor achievement in that." His gaze settled on Frodo, and the latter met the severe gaze without reeling back. "What Master Frodo is doing- that should be admired and respected!" Frodo's brows shot up with surprise. "To willingly take on such responsibility, and to stand by him through all these toils with such devotion," He looked from Samwise to Merry and Pippin, "_That_ is commendable. Where and under what 'title' you were born is meaningless here."

His scowl softened as the Hobbits processed the words in a confused, respectful silence. Frodo was actually blushing, and that alone softened the Elf's expression more. "Be not quick to respect those with _titles_. 'Tis usually those with no title but that their friends give them, that do all the important things."

He got up and headed away from the camp to watch over the surroundings, and no one followed him but Sam.

He did not stray far from the group, just enough for his Elf-ears to pick up their movement. He did not need to turn to know that Sam had followed him.

"You best stay with Frodo, Samwise Gamgee." He said, looking at the stars. The moon's pale light illuminated them both in a soft hue. Various night foul and beast were awakening, and their sounds and noises were carried on the chill air. A light breeze tousled the Elf's blond hair and played with the hem of Sam's cape.

"I know, Mister Legolas." He answered. Legolas had long forsaken trying to stop Sam from calling him 'Mister' and 'Sir', but the stubborn Hobbit persisted. Legolas could only be thankful that Sam didn't start calling him 'Your lordship' or 'Your majesty'. "But there was another question I wanted to ask you."

"Full of questions, your kind are."

The hobbit watched Legolas' profile, and after a moment of thoughtful silence he asked,

"Are all the Mirkwood elves so sad?"

Again, a flash of surprise registered on the Elf's face, and he turned to look from the stars to Sam.

"_Sad_?"

Now it was Samwise's turn to look at the stars,

"You're very sad, Mister Legolas."

Legolas shook his head,

"What makes you think that?"

"Your eyes, you see." Sam was still slightly embarrassed. He saw himself inferior to the tall, agile Elf. "When you think no one's watching… They're very sad."

A sad smile twisted Legolas' lips,

"Amazing creatures, Hobbits are. There are not many things that can surprise our kind." He admitted, some humor creeping into his voice, "But I think our lives would not be so long if we were to spend more time with the Halflings."

"Are you sad, then, Mister Legolas?" Sam ventured again.

Legolas sighed, turning back to the stars. His face looked even more melancholy, in Sam's eyes.

"No more sad than the moon, nor gayer than the sun." The Elf said. Sam wondered why the elves spoke in puzzles all the time. It drove him to the brink of his sanity, when they were at Rivendell. He gathered, after some thought, that living as long as the elves do, saying "good morrow, lad!" and "I'm fine, thank you." Everyday for several centuries or more could get rather… _dull_. They probably riddled each other out of boredom. Conversations were less boring if you had to struggle to understand each other, Samwise gathered.

"Oh." He said at last, looking down and fingering his cloak. He wanted a better answer than that, but dared not interrogate the Elf further. Here the latter looked at the Hobbit and ruffled his hair fondly,

"Worry yourself not over me, Samwise. You have to take care of yourself and Master Frodo. Let not my burdens be added to the weights on your shoulders."

"No friend's troubles are a weight too heavy." Samwise retorted, feeling rather proud with the sentence. Legolas gave him a brief smile before saying,

"Let's return to the others. Aragorn and Boromir are returning."

"How can you tell?" Sam strained his ears, yet heard nothing.

"I can hear their _bickering_ well enough."

~@~

"What say we rest here tonight?" Boromir suggested, leaning heavily on a gnarled bark of a tree and eyeing Aragorn. The latter sniffed the air and then looked sideways at Legolas, who nodded.

"I sense it also." The Elf said, looking around with keen eyes, "'Tis the same foul vibe from yesterday."

"I believe it draws near." Aragorn muttered.

"Aye."

"We must be more wary."

"Aye."

They turned to the rest of the group, weary from the long day's trek.

"We shall rest here." Aragorn agreed.

They were deep inside the forest now, and walking was tricky. The trees' roots proved traitorous footing for most of the Company, and Legolas' cryptic, though heartfelt tips on managing helped little.

"Trees, trees and more trees!" Gimli mourned in his booming voice, sitting down heavily, "What a pain. Give me the splendors of Dwellindeapth every day! Not this obscene greenery for days on end."

"There is beauty in the trees that surpasses even that of your kin's workmanship." Legolas scolded, "If you were but high enough to see naught but the roots."

Gimli half growled, half scoffed, and Aragorn had to turn away to hide his amusement.

"Let's make camp." He said.

Boromir and Aragorn left to hunt, Frodo and Sam each went to look for herbs and spices, while Merry and Pippin helped Legolas built a fire. Gimli was escorting Frodo: they didn't want the Ringbarer to walk alone in these dangerous parts.

The two remaining Hobbits were gathering twigs and branches while Legolas arranged them and tried to kindle them. The fire was not cooperating, and except for stubbing his finger, he had little success.

A shout rang out through the chill air, and Legolas was on his feet and bolting into the forest before Merry and Pippin could even fully recognize the voice.

Sam!

Sam was picking up some herbs. Back bent, he was working hard on dislodging some stubborn root from the earth. He heard his pans rattle, and absently reached back to arrange them.

It was then that he realized that he had left all his pans and luggage back at the camp. Alas, the realization came too late, as the huge Orcs that were running towards him were nearly upon him. He shouted, dropping the herbs he had gathered and started running. There were twelve of them, with long legs compared to the Hobbit, and even with all their heavy armor, they gained on the fleeing Sam easily.

The forest zoomed by as he ran, often tripping and helping his run with his hands. His breath came as short, frightened gasps, and he could hear the heavy breathing of his pursuers. He could smell their reeking stench.

It was in one of his many trips that he felt a powerful hand close on his ankle. He gave a yelp and tried to grab at anything. The mighty grip on his foot started to pull him, and he managed to grab a branch. He twisted his body and, with a yell, smacked at the general direction of his captor.

His hit was true, and he was released. Now that he was on his back, he saw them.

Uruk Hai.

At first, he found himself paralyzed with fear. They were so big!

The one that had grabbed him recovered from the hit to his arm, and reached out again. Samwise scuttled backwards, pushing with his hands and feet. The beast of a creature smiled a hideous smile and took a step towards the Hobbit. Sam, out of fear and desperation, attacked him again with the stick. He hit, and was surprised when the Uruk Hai was knocked aside, and lay there dead.

It took both the surprised Sam and the shocked monsters a few moments to register the arrow lodged in the dead mass. By the time they wanted to continue their attack on the helpless Hobbit, three more of them fell under a barrage of arrows. They whizzed through the air and hit their marks with a satisfying 'Thwap!'.

Those who were hit were not merely wounded- each arrow killed.

Those who still remained standing roared with anger and charged at Sam again. After all, they did not see the archer in the trees, and moving was always advised. Just as they charged, and just as Sam got to his feet to run, there was a flash of light and two more lay dead. Standing above the prone figures with two blades drawn was Legolas. His blades reflected the moon's light, and as he held them up, ready, they illuminated his face. A streak of light gleamed in his eyes. He stood there, poised and ready for a short moment, making all present realize that if they wanted to reach the Hobbit, it would have to be through him.

"Run, Samwise!" He called, and the Uruk Hai charged, roaring.

Legolas' figure became a blur, as he fought to fend against seven attackers. He had not slain one when it had become six. A quick twirl about his heels revealed that one of the beast-men had started after Samwise. 

Too scared, the Hobbit was still standing there, staring back at Legolas. The Elf attacked hard and fast, managing to break an opening in the attackers around him for a brief moment. In that second he had, he drew his hand back and tossed one of his short swords. It found it's target, and the Orc tumbled forward only two fathoms from Samwise, the hilt sticking from his back. 

The world shifted, changed, and Samwise felt as though it had slowed down. He wanted to move, but his mind seemed no longer connected to his body. In the wake of the fallen monster, Sam's and Legolas' eyes met for a brief moment. Legolas' hand was still extended forward. Not a full second had yet passed since Legolas tossed his blade. The Hobbit's brown eyes wanted to shout "_Behind you_!". Legolas' attack had left him open.

The Elf's light blue eyes answered with calm acceptance,

"_I know_."

And he was struck. Legolas' back arced backwards as a deformed axe connected. He clenched his teeth in pain, but not a sound escaped his lips. His head jerked back sharply. The hit had slashed him across the back; a splash of Elven blood soiled the forest's ground.

But the Elf was not yet defeated. Time returned to its normal speed for Sam. Legolas stumbled forward, falling briefly to his knees. The Orc behind him prepared another strike. 

The final blow.

Legolas was starting to turn around to block when the Uruk Hai's axe was in the middle of its descent. It was obvious he will not be able to block it in time. The rock that hit the beast was a blessed save, and Legolas' remaining sword pierced the Uruk Hai's heart in a flash and a splash of blood. 

Once back on his feet, the Elf's dazzling, whirling dance of attacks continued, and before long, all remaining Orcs laid dead on the earth. Sam had assisted when he could, throwing stones with surprising accuracy and lethality.

There was a long stretch of silence when the battle was over. Legolas still stood with one arm stretched aside and the bloody blade held tight. It was the last position he had taken to kill the last of the attackers.

His back was turned to Sam, and all the hobbit could see from where he stood was the heavy rising and falling of the Elf's chest. The gash on his back bled, soaking the green tunic dark red. Slowly and deliberately, Legolas lowered his short sword, cleaned it with a 'swish' and replaced it in its sheath.

Silently, he bent and took what arrows were left intact from their short-timed owners. Lastly, he turned towards Sam. He was surprised to find the Elf's face still calm and serene as usual, despite the slash above his right brow that had bled and caused the eye under it to shut. Despite the small cut in his left arm, and despite the gash all across his back. He bent carefully and with a sickening 'sh-chok' took his second short sword from the back of the dead. He cleaned it on the body before asking,

"Are you hurt, Samwise?" His voice was low and controlled.

"N-No, Mister Legolas, sir." Then he stuttered some more and added, "T… Thank you."

Legolas examined the young Hobbit before him to make sure he was indeed well as he said, before starting towards the camp. Sam started after him, and was alarmed when after only a few steps Legolas fell to one knee.

"Legolas!" Sam cried, rushing towards the Elf. He placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder and examined his face, "Should I call the others?"

"No." Legolas said, his voice slightly strained, "Give me but a moment, and I shall get up." He then looked up and tried to give his little friend a calming smile. The smile was compassionate, no doubt, but only caused the hobbit to worry more- Legolas' face was pale and creased with pain. His right eye was still closed, glued shut by the blood. It always saddened Sam greatly to see elves suffer- such fair creatures should be spared pain and blood, he believed.

"No need to worry, Samwise." Legolas placed his hand on his knee, ready to get up, "I can hear Aragorn, Merry and Pippin coming." He attempted to rise, but sank back to his knee with a muffled grunt. Sam did his best to be supportive, though except his hand on the shoulder, there was little he could actually do.

"Legolas!" Aragorn broke through one of the dense bushes between the trees, alarm clear on his face. He flew to the Elf's side, studying him. Merry and Pippin had their swords drawn and were staring at the dead bodies.

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged some quick words in Elvish. The Ranger's serious eyes were dark with worry, though none of it showed on his face. He then proceeded to wrap one of Legolas' arms around his shoulders and helped him up. Legolas leaned heavily on his friend, and the two started towards the camp in slow, measured steps.

"By the Shire! These are foul creatures!" Merry nudged one of the Uruk Hai's with his foot and pounced back, as if he expected it to come alive. 

"Foulest I've seen yet." Sam agreed, his eyes not leaving Legolas.

"Come, Hobbits!" Aragorn looked over his shoulder. One of his hands held Legolas' arm by his neck, the other was wrapped around the Elf's waist in an attempt to support some of his weight.

Merry and Pippin took a few more minutes to examine the fallen beasts, and in that while, Sam observed the Elf. He noted that now, when Legolas thought that no one watched but Aragorn, he let the pain show on his face. Deep creases of agony marred his pale skin, and he breathed through tightly clutched teeth. Aragorn said something in a low, controlled voice, and Legolas took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes tightly. The creases seemed to ease a little.

Sam was following them a few steps behind and to the side, worry and shame etched on his face.

~@~

"So, how is he, Mister Strider, sir?" Sam's voice was meek and worried.

Aragorn sighed heavily, wiping sweat from his brow. He had just finished tending to the Elf, who had fallen into a deep sleep the moment they arrived back to the camp. A clean tunic was placed over his torso, his chest wrapped in bandages. Aragorn had cleaned the blood from his face, and placed a bandage over the cut on the Elf's forehead. It was plain to see, from the way Aragorn's eyes looked, that he was gravely worried.

Gimli was quietly tending to the fire, and as of yet, did not comment anything insulting.

"He's gone into a healing sleep." His tone was controlled, serious. "His wound is quite severe." He then noticed the concern on Sam's face and placed a comforting hand on the Hobbit's shoulder, "Do not worry, Samwise, Legolas has seen many a danger. This is far from being his last."

Sam nodded, looking at his feet and fingering the hem of his cloak.

"You are good friends with him- isn't that so, Strider, sir?"

Aragorn nodded,

"We have saved each other's lives on many occasions. So many, I have lost count who of us is indebted to who." His expression softened, "We are brothers in our hearts." He placed his other hand on Sam's heart, "Like you and Frodo."

Sam asked,

"Do you think that a Hobbit like me could become friends with an Elf, too?"

Aragorn's brows raised at the question and he shrugged,

"I truly do not see any hindrance to that wish."

"Do you think it will make him less sad?"

"You think he's sad?"

"I know it."

Aragorn smiled.

"I think it'll make him happier, yes."

Here Sam turned to the ranger, surprised,

"So you know what makes him sad, Mister Strider?"

Aragorn nodded,

"I know Legolas very well." He admitted, looking Sam in the eye, "But if you really desire to help him, then you must find out yourself what makes our friend here look to the stars each night."

Again the hobbit looked at his feet,

"I don't know how much I could really help."

"You would be surprised."

Before the conversation could continue, Boromir interjected, coming from where he had sat until now.

"What say you, Aragorn? Will the Elf be up and about tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not, Boromir." He said with a shake of his head. He got up and cleaned his hands on a piece of cloth, "The wound on his back is deep. It might take him till the morrow's eve to wake up."

"Until tomorrow?" Boromir gave Aragorn an incredulous stare, "It is more time than we have to dally."

The ranger gestured around,

"This place can serve us for another night. I see nothing wrong with a day's rest."

Boromir had made it his goal in life to disagree with Aragorn. It would seem he usually wasn't disagreeing with what Aragorn _said_, but rather disagreeing with Aragorn _himself_.

"We are but a stroll's distance from a pile of dead Orcs yay high." He placed a hand near his waist, indicating the height, "If we've not additional Uruk Hai to worry about, we'd better worry about the carrion eaters that will surely come."

Aragorn considered this a long moment. He scanned the Company; Sam was sitting by Legolas' side, with Frodo quietly talking to him. Merry and Pippin were tiredly trying to find something more to eat from the bushes and weeds around. Gimli was keeping the fire well fed, sometimes sending worried (though he would never admit it) looks towards Legolas as well. The Elf was sleeping, his face still pale and creases of pain still visible. Even Boromir looked tired, despite his own words. Aragorn? Aragorn himself was near exhaustion. Boromir, however, had a point.

"We will hike deeper into the forest." Aragorn announced in a voice loud enough for all the Company to hear, "There we shall set a new camp and rest for a day."

An inaudible, but almost tangible sigh of relief passed through everyone. Boromir was about to protest, but Aragorn said,

"Look, we are all at our last wind. We must let ourselves rest from time to time lest we burn ourselves out ere 'tis done."

Boromir seemed to agree, but only because he had nothing to say to contradict.

"Now we are faced with the problem of carrying the wounded one."

"We've no time to make a stretcher."

"Aye." Aragorn thought a long moment. "I will carry him then. Help the others pack."

Boromir was about to argue, but Aragorn turned towards Legolas before he had the chance. Samwise and Frodo left to pack, and Aragorn stood above his unconscious friend a long moment. He tried to find the best way to carry Legolas without aggravating the wound. Sam snuck peeks here and there, and he saw the emotions cross the Man's face; Worry, compassion, friendship, exhaustion, hope, and then worry again.

With some reluctance, Aragorn bound Legolas' hands together at the wrists with soft cloth and then wrapped the Elf's arms around his neck from behind. He rose carefully and adjusted the new weight. Legolas now hung over his back, his own well out of harm's way. The Elf's head rested on the ranger's shoulder, and the latter smiled. 

The company moved in silence. Having one of them thus incapacitated was a blow to moral. Especially since Legolas usually would be the one to get out of every fight unscathed. They all wondered what sort of enemy they were facing that could cause such damage to the Elf.

Sam dared not tell exactly what had transpired. Too ashamed, he was, to admit that it was his weakness that injured their companion so.

~@~

"Merry,"

"What is it, Pippin?"

"I'm hungry."

Their new camp was set deeper inside the forest. They had managed to find a place with enough room to lay their bedrolls and set a new fire. Legolas was gently spread on his back near the fire, and the tunic lovingly replaced on him by Aragorn.

Later that night, while Aragorn smoked his pipe quietly by the fire and nearly everyone had already gone to sleep, Sam approached him.

"Mister Strider, Sir." He obviously wasn't sure how to approach the subject of his thoughts.

"Yes, Sam?" Aragorn made room for him by his side, and Sam sat. "You've been troubled since the encounter. Are you well?"

"I wanted to apologize." He was looking deep into the fire. His own pipe, between his hands, was forgotten.

"Whatever for, Samwise Gamgee?" Aragorn puffed a few more rings into the air and leaned back against a tree. His was the first guarding shift. "Pray thee tell." Truth of the matter was that Aragorn knew quite well what Sam wanted, but thought it best for the Hobbit to get it off his chest on his own.

"For what happened to Legolas."

Aragorn, expecting this, immediately said,

"It was not your fault."

"I cannot help but think it was, Strider, sir. If I haven't been so careless, if I have moved when he had told me, if I-"

"Let me tell you a story." Aragorn interjected, and Sam looked at him with eyes wide with emotion. Aragorn stared at the dark forest canopy and puffed his pipe a few more times before starting. "Once, when I was on my way to Mirkwood on an errand from Lord Elrond with several others, we got lost." He inhaled deeply and listened to the forest a long moment. "We met a foul beast there-"

"A Warg?" Sam asked in alarm, fearing there might have been more than one in existence. He was not aware that they existed in many other places as well…

"-No." Aragorn gave him a strange look before continuing, "A beast who's name I cannot recall at the moment, though it was terrible at the time. We had managed to slay it, but it cost us five men, two of which were elves of Rivendell. I had blamed myself."

"Why?"

"Because I was the leader of the group, and I was the one who lost the path in the forest. The commotion drew the attention of the elves, and they came to guide us to the Capitol. On the way there an Elf saw my distress and told me the following tale:"

Aragorn inhaled deeply before starting.

            "There was once a warrior who had a magnificent horse. People said 'If you have such a horse, you are indeed lucky'. He answered them: 'Maybe'.

            One day the horse ran away. People said 'If you would have taken better care of it, it wouldn't have happened'. He answered: 'Maybe'.

            A few days later, the horse returned. People said 'If it returned, good fortune will follow you'. He answered them: 'Maybe'.

The warrior's son rode the horse one day, and the horse threw a shoe. The warrior's son broke his leg. People said 'Now your son will not be able to do anything'. The warrior answered them: 'Maybe'.

However, a few days later a war started. Because his son was injured, he could not leave to fight and thus was spared."

There was a long pause. The night animals went about their business and none approached the smallish camp. The fire's smoke rose through the high leaves of the trees.

"I'm not sure I get it." Sam said.

Aragorn exhaled a long breath of smoke, and it joined the smoke from the fire and rose up and up. Sam followed it with his eyes.

"You needn't ask yourself 'what if' all the time, Samwise. You can never know to what end things happen and what choice is the right one, in the long run."

Now the hobbit looked at him again,

"But causing a friend pain? What good can I do in the long r-?"

"Listen." Aragorn leaned forward again, "It might sound cruel but- we are here-" He indicated the dark forest, "For a very dangerous mission. Injury is inevitable. We are also here to protect each other, and we shall continue to do so until our mission is done, if not afterwards." He gave Sam a serious gaze, "We cannot go feeling guilty for every injury caused when someone protects us. We must be grateful to have such friends, and be willing to do the same. That is all we can do."

He let the words sink in, and when it looked like Sam understood he added in a lighter tone,

"What would be of a the Fellowship if Frodo felt guilty that we are all protecting him?" He smiled, "Why, he would not be able to be around neither of us! He would have to go alone for that."

Sam smiled as well, understanding and feeling better with himself. He thanked Aragorn for his council and went to sleep.

~@~

"'Tis a grim day indeed that I've no one to quarrel with!" Gimli threw his hands in the air, and the Hobbits laughed. It was the afternoon of the day's rest and the respite lifted their spirits and encouraged them greatly. The Hobbits sat and sang and smoked their pipes. Merry even got to tell Aragorn (in extraordinary length) some about his heritage. Sadly, only halfway through, when young Merriadoc was just about to get to the interesting part of how exactly Frodo was connected to him from his mother's side, he noticed the Ranger had fallen asleep.

Aragorn was leaning on a tree, eyes closed in slumber, head slanted to one side. He was resting just besides Legolas' bedroll, and the sight of the two of them sleeping so calmly, was somehow soothing to gaze upon.

The lines of pain had eased from the Elf's face, and in his last examination of the wound, Aragorn had been pleased with the recovery rate. He had removed the bandage over the Legolas' brow, and now only a small-ish scratch remained. The wound on the Elf's back, Aragorn had then admitted, will leave a scar. This made Sam's heart cringe with guilt, though he tried to look at it in the light Aragorn had shed the prior night.

"You can tease _me_, if you want." Sam suggested, feeling bad for Gimli. Being proud as he was, he couldn't even let his worry show, and was forced to find excuses to express his concern.

"Thank you, lad." Gimli nodded sincerely, "But it just isn't the same." He sighed heavily, "We are about the same size, the same built- what could we possibly tease each other about?"

"Well," Sam seated himself near the Dwarf, smiling, "I don't have a beard to call my own, do I?"

"That you don't, lad." Gimli agreed, "And it's a pity. You'd look fine with one."

"The Elves in Rivendell told me that a lot of bodily hair is reserved for beasts and animals, not to civilized creatures." He eyed Gimli; curious to know how he'll deal with the accusation. As he expected, the Dwarf scoffed, his feathers obviously ruffled,

"_Beasts_, they say? Hmph! Master Samwise, you shouldn't listen to such nonsense as the elves can sputter! They wouldn't know the true worth of things if it fell on their thick skulls!"

"Funny," Samwise said, his smile widening, "That's just what they said about the dwarfs." 

Gimli scoffed with indignance again, "Never trust anything with pointy ears."

Sam gave his a sour look, and quickly the Dwarf corrected, "I meant _Elven_ pointy ears, Master Gamgee!"

The hobbit's smile returned tenfold when he looked to see that Legolas had his eyes open. The Elf was staring blankly at the forest canopy, blue eyes blinking slowly.

"Legolas!" Samwise cried, startling everybody and waking Aragorn. He bent by the Elf's side and Aragorn was soon there as well. He asked Legolas something in Elven, and all that Sam understood was the word 'Mellon'… 

_Friend_.

"I had a beautiful dream." Legolas answered, still staring at the sky through the leaves. His voice was but a whisper.

"A dream of the past?"

"Nay." Legolas finally turned his head and looked at Aragorn. His eyes seemed as sharp as ever, and a glint of humor now shined in them, " I dreamt of the future."

Playing along, Aragorn's expression softened. Now all lines and shadows of worry ebbed and he was visibly more relaxed.

"Of the future, you say? You've become soothsayer?" His tone was tainted with mischief as well, and Sam's gaze darted from one to another. They both seemed to know where this conversation would lead.

"You've reclaimed the throne of Gondor," Legolas broke into a smile, "And all the Men in the land were cheering. And there was a _certain_ Elf that was your counselor- there to make fun of your mistakes and lighten your all-too-serious heart in time of trouble."

Aragorn rolled his eyes and smiled as well,

"A counselor, you said you'd be? Perhaps you meant court jester."

Legolas bolted to a sitting position,

"An Elf as a jester? Preposterous!" He then smiled wider and pointed at Gimli, who was staring at him in surprise, "He'd make a better one, I must admit."

"The _Elf_ sings again!" Gimli scoffed and huffed, "I should have tied your lips shut while you slept!"

Aragorn laughed, and helped Legolas to his feet, though the latter seemed as energetic and fit as ever. Legolas then quickly slipped into his tunic and wore his equipment. His back was still sore, granted, it was obvious from the gentle way he placed the quiver on it. Soon he was ready, and he turned around to find Sam standing but a foot behind him.

"How are you, Samwise?" He asked lightly.

"I'm well, Mister Legolas, sir." The relief Sam felt showed on his face. To see his friend up and about again as if nothing had happened was good, "How are you feeling?"

Legolas nodded,

"I'm well now, I thank you for your concern."

Sam was about to continue his talk with Legolas- there was a lot he wanted to say- but Gimli decided it was time to repay the Elf for his previous comment and Sam had to wait.

~@~

It was well after the stars shone in the sky, and the night creatures roamed again that Sam had a chance to talk to the Elf. He found the latter in a forest clearing not far from the camp, looking at the stars with the same melancholy expression.

Silently and carefully, the Hobbit padded his way towards Legolas. Either he didn't notice the Hobbit's approach (not much chance of that), or he simply ignored him. For many long moments, the two of them simply watched the stars. One, tall and proud, elegant as the woodland elves go. The Other, a Halfling of the Shire, brave but shy.

"Beautiful, are they not?" Legolas asked himself more than Sam. Sam nodded,

"Are they prettier here than in Mirkwood?"

"Nay." Legolas' eyes never left the sparkling heavens, "They are the same wherever I go." There was sadness in his words, but before Samwise could inquire, the Elf continued, "The woodland elves, as we are called, are raised to live with the stars and the forests and the beasts of the woods. The stars are our companions when all else has failed or passed."

Samwise wasn't quite sure if he was supposed to comment or answer, so instead he said,

"I wanted to thank you… For what you did that day."

"No need to." Legolas dismissed the incident casually, still scanning the stars. It seemed to not bother him even half than it bothered Sam.

"But I insist!" Samwise was surprised at the strength of his own words, and Legolas finally looked away from the sky and met the Hobbit's eyes, "If you hadn't saved me, I would have died!"

"Maybe." The Elf actually smiled. Sam's words got caught in his throat when he realized that it was probably Legolas himself that had helped Aragorn, way back when. After a shaky draw of breath, Samwise continued gravely, "You now bare a scar because of me, and when elves are scarred they carry that scar to the rest of their days." He paused and looked away, "And there are certainly many days in the life of an Elf."

Legolas looked at him a long moment before he kneed before the Hobbit. They were more or less the same height that way, and Legolas finally said,

"At Mirkwood, I was just an Elf." Samwise met the Elf's gaze, now filled with compassion and sadness, "I am a prince, yes, but the seventh son of the king. I was raised to be wed when convenient. To wed me to a powerful daughter of elves that would make my father's position more secure. Perhaps even with an Elven-maiden of another realm; of Lothlorien or Rivendell. I had no friends and no purpose. What could I do to make a difference? Nothing." He sighed heavily, "What could I do to help against the Darkness around me? Nothing. You wanted to know what saddens me, Samwise Gamgee?" Legolas got up again, "Being helpless, hopeless. Seeing pain around me and being able to help none. Feeling that no matter what I do, 'tis too little, too late. And I am alone, and I have failed."

Sam stared at the Elf, who now had a frown and was looking into the murky-black depths of the forest ahead. That last part had felt to Sam as if he himself had said it, and not the Elf. He felt just the same way.

"There is no need to apologize for the scar I will now bare." Legolas' gaze met the Hobbit's once more, and there was steel resolve there, "I wear it without shame, nay, even proudly! I bare it for I did what my heart had told me, and I have protected a friend. 'Tis more than I would have ever had in my Woodland home."

Sam could say nothing. The Elf's determined expression softened and he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, my friend. You will not fail; I feel it in my heart."

And those words alone filled Samwise's heart with a new strength and hope. He was willing to do the same for his friends as this friend had done for him. He perhaps was less skilled and powerful than the agile Elf, but with such friends, such faith and such courage, he knew he would not stumble again.

Just like Legolas,

His friend.


End file.
